Little Gods of the Mortal World, You Did Your Best

(PS: I'm going to visit the areas around Inner Mongolia tomorrow. I'm truly sorry about traveling this time. I've been depressed for years, and I'm genuinely happy to be out this time. I'll slowly make up for the chapters I owe and the missed updates after I return to Chongqing in August.)

Wu Pifu felt sorrow.

He was trapped by the endless negative turmoil in his sea of consciousness. Although those endless negatives came from countless iterations of his personality, they had also been his former selves, so there was nothing he could deny. He could only endure it himself, then try to find some joy amid the suffering by turning those endless negatives into strength.

But that did not mean endless negativity was a good thing. It was the most contaminating and terrifying thing Wu Pifu had discovered so far, perhaps even more terrifying than the Contamination Source. It simply only acted on himself for the most part, and was difficult to unleash.

Why had he always insisted on remaining human, and why was he so sensitive about it?

Because under the effects of that negativity, he really could turn into something unknown at any moment. It was not merely a distortion of the flesh, but a complete transformation of his senses, cognition, personality, and even essence. The gap was greater than that between trilobites and humans. Wu Pifu had even suspected that, after killing the four origins during the final moments of the Warhammer Dream World and standing beyond that galaxy, he had already become something beyond life and matter—neither alive nor dead.

So he truly understood how terrifying this Psychic Negative Backlash was, and he also knew the pain of enduring it. To put it bluntly, the countless iterations of his past personalities had probably vanished in